Page 93 of Prince of the Sun

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smirks against my lips. Then he removes his top hand from my breast and plunges it down my pants, pushing aside my panties so he can feel my opening. “Oh.” I feel his smile against my hair. “This is what I do to you, is it?”

“Yes.” It sounds like a plea.

“Good. Now let’s see whatthisdoes to you.” He presses lightly inward with one finger, and I turn in his grasp, stifling a moan against the blanket. His finger drags slowly up and down, and then he adds a second, turning them in slow circles.

“F-fuck.” I gasp. “Daerios.”

“Do you like this?”

“Yes.” I let go of his wrist with my left hand, reaching back and grabbing his thigh as hard as I can. “God, yes.”

“How about this?” He slides both fingers inside, filling me further. His fingertips press up against the sensitive spot up at the top, the place that makes my brain split in two.

“Yes.” I clutch at his leg even harder. My nails dig into the thick fabric of his pants.

“You are so beautiful, Quinn,” he whispers in my ear. “So brave. So cunning. You have no idea how happy it makes me to make you feel like this.”

His fingers start pumping, then. They slide out of me to massage my clit, then plunge back inside. Again. And again. My heart is pumping so fast, now. My legs clench, then my stomach. I can hardly breathe.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he says. “Not in all my life. You drive me fucking insane, Quinn Kallister.”

“Daerios,” I rasp.

“I want to make you feel as good as I do when I’m around you. Just standing at your side, looking at your beautiful face, your hair, your breasts. Feeling your perfect, tight pussy…” With each word he utters, his hand speeds up. My muscles are starting to seize. Stars sparkle at the edges of my vision. I might be lying down, but it feels as if I’m climbing a mountain, and that mountain is made of pressure and heat and pleasure so intense I would scream if it wouldn’t wake the entire forest.

“Don’t stop,” I say as he massages my clit over and over. “Please, Daerios. Don’t fucking stop.”

“I won’t.” He kisses the side of my neck, just once. Gentle. “I’m going to make you come, baby. I want to feel you come undone on my fingers. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” My hips are wiggling. Moving in time with his fingers. “Yes. Please. Just don’t stop.”

“Good.” He kisses me again, leaving a trail down my neck. Ican feel every place his mouth has touched me. The marks are seared into my skin. I want to turn around and press my lips to his, but it’s impossible for me to do anything but stifle the moans coming out of my mouth as I wriggle against his body.

“Come for me,” he whispers. “Come for me, baby.”

“Daerios,” I say. “Daerios.”

His breath trickles down my neck, and every muscle in my body squeezes tight at once. The pressure is so tight it blinds me. I have no control over what is coming out of my mouth, over theyesand theDaeriosand thedon’t fucking stop. I’m lost in a haze of intense pleasure—

And then the dam breaks, and release spills out of me.

“Quinn,” Daerios whispers against my hair. “Such a good girl.”

“Daerios,” I gasp. I clutch at his chest, needing him as close as possible. My body is still shaking with release. “Daerios, I—”

But then a snarl rips through the air, and we fall silent as death.

The elves are up and out of the cave so quickly that I doubt Berendir was ever asleep—a mortifying thought, given what just happened between Daerios and me, but right now I’m more focused on the horrifying noises coming from behind the trees.

By the time Cara and I fumble out of the blankets and collect our bows, the elves have already vanished into the trees.

“They’re urrath!” comes Berendir’s yell from several yards away. His call is followed by a clash of steel.

Cara and I exchange a look. Then we grab our bows, sprint over to the nearest gnarled tree trunk, and do exactly what we promised the boys we would do in a situation like this: we start to climb.

It only takes a few seconds to reach a safe height. The black trunks are riddled with knobs and holes, which makes them easy to scale. They’re bare of branches toward the bottom, but as we reach the leafier tops, the trunk splits into several thick limbs, upon which we perch to watch the fighting below.

In Maevish,urrathliterally translates todemon, and the creatures below us certainly live up to the title. Urrathhavedark grey humanoid bodies, with two arms, two legs, a torso, a pelvis, a neck, and a head. That, however, is where the humanoid features end. Their feet are clawed hooves. From their hands spout nails as long as daggers. And their faces are the worst of all. No eyes, just two slits for a nose up where the forehead should be, and a mouth so large it looks like it could swallow me whole. No lips hide the spiky teeth that line the mouth, round and gaping like that of a lamprey eel.